


Dead Reckoning

by bookwyrmling



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fade to Black, Implied/Reference Overdose, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Q-Era Pimms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 03:12:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15161264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwyrmling/pseuds/bookwyrmling
Summary: When Kent was five, he fell in love with the night sky.





	Dead Reckoning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [entirely_too_tall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/entirely_too_tall/gifts).



> This fic was written for the 2018 Kent Parson Birthday Bash to fulfill the prompt listed below by entirely_too_tall. It was written for Check Please! a comic by Ngozi Ukazu. Thank you, Ngozi, for letting us play with your amazing characters.
> 
> **Prompt**  
>  Let Kent Parson have a loving childhood and family 2k18. I'm hoping to see either KVP coming out to his family in the aftermath of Jack's OD and getting support, or his family hating Jack for "what he did to Kent" when he gets PTSD/survivors guilt and him navigating that. Or just childhood fluffy traditions that continue into adulthood that keeps him grounded through the trauma.
> 
> entirely_too_tall, readers, I hope you enjoy!

“So! So so! You take the two stars from the Big Dipper and draw a straight line to that bright star there and that’s the North Star, Polaris!” Kent said as he pointed out the connection with his finger.

The summer camp Kent and his older brother, Taylor, had been attending had gone to the planetarium two months ago. Kent had been obsessed with space since. In an attempt to foster his interest, since Kent had been having difficulties with school and focusing, his father had taken the family camping. Taylor had opted to stay with a friend. He had soccer camp. Kent knew he really didn’t want to come with them because he’d watched a movie about a killer bear with friends and was scared of them now. Kent hoped he saw a bear just so he could tell Taylor that he wasn’t scared.

They had taken a short night-hike from their camp to an open hill. The Adirondacks had such little light pollution the Milky Way spilled across the sky and stars Kent had never seen outside of his star maps and books he could now point out with ease.

“The North Star is on the handle of the Little Dipper, but it’s most important ‘cuz if you can find it, you’ll always know which way is north,” Kent continued to explain to his parents, “But only in the north. You can’t see it in the south.”

“Wow, so we don’t have to worry about getting lost with you here then, huh?” his mother asked as she brushed Kent’s bangs back from his face.

Kent gave her a cheeky grin. “I’ll find the way!” he promised.

“What else is up there?” Kent’s dad asked from where he sat a bit further away, stuck on the picnic blanket they’d set out, Samantha snoring in his lap. “There’s too many stars out here. I don’t even know which one’s the moon!”

“ _Daddy_! The moon isn’t a star! And it’s right there!” Kent laughed and threw his hand to the sky.

“Where?” his dad asked.

“There!” Kent screamed with laughter as he ran behind his father and pointed up at the large crescent in front of them, still low in the sky.

Samantha moaned, threw her arm out and fell back asleep. Kent eyed her warily, not wanting her to wake up and cry. When she seemed unlikely to do so, he pointed out three more stars from over his father’s shoulder. “That’s the summer triangle with Alistair, Vega and, um….Deneb! Airplanes and ships used to use it for navigating.”

“Now I really know you’ll never get lost, Kenny-bear.” His dad laughed, “Are there any stars not used for navigating?”

Kent scoffed. “Only the ones you can’t see, and nobody cares about those.”

* * *

 

“Kent, honey, dinner’s ready,” Kent’s mom spoke through his closed door after her knocks went unanswered. “Will you join us?”

“It’s your favorite,” she pressed after further silence.

“Sweetheart, it’s not good for you to lock yourself away like this,” she tried once more, “I know it’s hard, but please let us be there for you.”

Kent slouched all the way down from the stack of boxes he’d been leaning against, half-full of things he’d need to bring with him to Vegas in a few months. The wood floor felt cool against his cheek when he finally came to a rest.

He hit the end call button. The voicemail he’d left was thirty seconds of silence. Jack still wasn’t picking up.

Kent stared at his phone screen until it shut off, leaving him in near complete darkness, curtains drawn tight against his window.

Outside Kent’s door, his mother sighed.

Kent sent a glance at the door. He watched her shadows dance in front of the light shining from beneath it.

“There’s a plate outside the door for you,” she finally surrendered, “You’ll need to bring it to the kitchen yourself before tomorrow morning.”

Kent listened to her footsteps retreat down the hallway then turned his phone screen back on. Before he could hit send again, however, a sharp piece of plastic hit him on his ear.

He yelped and covered the offended appendage. The plastic piece was stuck in his hair and he pulled it out.

It was one of the glow-in-the-dark stars his parents had stuck to his ceiling when he was five. He’d gotten so mad at the time because they hadn’t done it right. That weekend, though, they’d all worked together to make the stars on his ceiling match his star map.

Kent picked at the adhesive on the back of the star. It was dry, so he wouldn’t be able to reattach it even if he remembered the constellations enough to know where it fell from.

Kent sighed and stood up. He threw the star into the trash can—“Three points,” he whispered—and walked over to his door to grab his dinner.

* * *

 

“We really are in the middle of fucking nowhere, aren’t we?” Kent asked as he hunkered down further into his winter coat and the deck chair he was sitting in. “We have to drive hours to see this many stars where I’m from.” But now, here they were, in his billet family’s backyard with the night sky absolutely littered with the cold pinpricks of light.

“Haha. Rimouski, eh?” Jack shrugged.

“Don’t you mean Canada, eh?” Kent asked then moved his legs out of range of Jack’s sloppy kick.

“You live here now,” Jack reminded him when he realized he’d missed his target.

“Only until I’m drafted,” Kent promised.

All the lights were off in the house and, since the Bedards lived outside the city proper, their back deck looked out on a whole lot of nothing. The stars were the brightest thing for miles. Kent and Jack sat in two of the deck chairs, breathed in the cold and tried to sober up.

Jack looked over at Kent and smirked at him. “What if a Canadian team drafts you?”

Kent laughed, his breath spewing out in a visible cloud of white. “I’d stand a better chance getting the Cup going to college at that rate.”

Jack snorted. “Like college would want you.”

Kent shrugged because it was true. The team’s tutors had to drag him through his distance learning assignment-by-assignment. If the schooling systems and languages weren’t so incompatible, they’d probably be shoving him into a public school with Jack and the rest of the Francophones on the team.

Kent stared up at the stars. He traced over Orion then pulled both arms up and pretended to shoot an arrow straight at the hero.

Jack reached over and punched at his chair’s arm. “What are you doing?”

“Looking at the stars, duh,” Kent replied. “Orion’s really easy to see. Might be able to find Sirius if there weren’t so many trees.” Kent drew his finger from Betelgeuse to Procyon before tracing it down to the trees that marked the Bedard’s property line. Sirius would be right about there.

“You like stars?” Jack asked. Kent could hear the chirp on the tip of his tongue.

“I used to know, like, all the constellations,” he bragged. It was always best to own the chirps. Leave the other guy without a leg to stand on. “I could tell directions with them and everything.”

Kent rested his hands on his chest and stared at the sky, waiting for the teasing to start.

“That’s….pretty cool,” Jack said, instead. Kent smiled because, yeah, it was.

“Think you could still do it?”

“Maybe?” Though Kent doubted it. “After I got serious about hockey, I didn’t have time for stars anymore,” he explained. It was a bit sad thinking back on it, but who needed stars to show the way when your path was laid out in front of you?

“Hockey’s better anyway,” Jack finally replied.

Kent grinned and held out his fist for a bump. “Damn right it is.”

* * *

 

“Oh hey, you’re actually alive.”

“Samantha!”

Kent grabbed a granola bar out of the pantry and a bottle of water out of the fridge. “I’m going for a run,” he announced over the sound of his mother’s scolding.

“Dressed like that?” his mother quickly turned to disapprove.

“Are you crazy?” his sister added, no longer being scolded.

Kent slammed the fridge door, scarfed down the granola bar, and walked out of the kitchen without sparing either of them a glance.

“What about the pool? You can swim laps,” his mother suggested, following him to the entryway. “Your trainer said low-impact would be best for your leg.”

Kent shoved his water bottle in his hoodie’s pocket and ran out the door.

Even in his most breathable pair of basketball shorts, the weight of summer was quick to fall on Kent’s shoulders. It was hot and humid and the middle of the day. Kent kept his hood up because people in this part of town recognized him. He was the Parson boy, or at least the younger one. The dumb one. And what a pity his friend almost died.

Kent’s fists clenched and his shoulders tightened. Each footfall fell earlier than the last until he was sprinting around the corner and out of the neighborhood. It was too easy to give in to the rhythm. All he had to do was follow the sidewalk. He turned another corner and slowed to a jog, breath heavy and sweat already starting to soak through his t-shirt. It was nearly a straight shot now to the riverfront. He just had to put one foot in front of the other. Follow the path set before him. He didn’t even need to see where he was going. His body would tell him when it couldn’t go any further.

Kent’s shoulders loosened and his strides lengthened. All he had to remember to do was breathe.

* * *

 

Kent fell face first into the hotel bed, smothering his groan in the comforter and pillow-top mattress.

“Your suit’s gonna get wrinkled if you sleep like that and we still have one more game before we go home,” Jack said as he dropped his hockey bag against the wall. Kent smiled at the second thwump, realizing Jack had moved Kent’s over from the middle of the floor, as well.

“I’m tired. Help me,” he grumbled, turning his head to the side so he could be heard.

“I’m tired, too,” Jack argued, hanging up his jacket and tie in the closet.

“But I’m the one who got the short-handed game winner while you were in the box for tripping,” Kent teased, flipping over onto his back and holding himself up on his elbows. He grinned at Jack’s dark frown and wiggled his foot at him. “Come on,” he rolled his eyes, “It’s not like you didn’t get a goal after that, still.”

“It was a stupid call,” Jack muttered as he ripped off Kent’s shoes.

“What’re you gonna do about it? We just play the game. Ref, coaches, anyone says jump and we better know how high they mean. Right?”

Jack rolled his eyes and tore Kent’s tie off, pausing to stare at the beginning of a tent in his charcoal trousers. “I thought you said you were tired.”

“Well, I mean, when you have a hot guy stripping you down, it’d be weird to not have a reaction, right?”

Jack stared down at him for a silent moment before sighing. He rolled his eyes as he rolled the tie up. Just when Kent thought Jack was going to ignore the come on, Jack shoved the rolled tie into his mouth. “We have teammates next door, so keep quiet,” Jack ordered and Kent dropped back against the mattress. His eyes slid shut as Jack unzipped him.

“You know that was a lucky bounce, don’t you? Cote completely read your shot.” Jack grumbled.

Kent smiled and bit into the tie. They both knew by now: luck was as much a part of the game as skill. Sometimes you got where you were going without even knowing how. Kent slipped his hands into Jack’s hair and pushed his head down: a suggestion on better things he could be doing with his mouth.

* * *

 

Kent jumped as his door flew open.

“Knock first!” he shouted at his father. A set of keys flew at him. Kent caught them before they could smack him in the face and stared at them in confusion.

“Your mom needs some stuff from the grocery store for dinner. Take Sammy. She has the list.”

“Can’t she just go?” Kent asked, pocketing the keys.

“She only has her permit. You have your license. Now go,” his dad said with a jerk of his head out the door, “You can’t stay in your room the whole summer.”

Kent grumbled but stood, slipping on sandals and jamming a cap over his untamed hair.

“Let’s go, Sam,” he called out as he passed the living room.

Sam shut off the tv and jumped over the sofa. “Ew, are you really going out dressed like that?”

“It’s just the grocery store,” Kent argued back, “And if you have a problem with it, it’s not like you can’t take your bike.”

“There’s too much on the list,” she said as she ran ahead of Kent and tugged at the front passenger door until he hit the unlock button.

“It’s not just extra stuff for dinner?” Kent asked as he adjusted the rearview mirror and then backed out of the drive.

“Nope,” Sam said, rolling down the window and turning on the air conditioner to blast the worst of the heat out, “Besides, mom and dad wanted you to get out of the house without trying to kill yourself exercising.”

“This much is nothing,” Kent grumbled.

“Well, it’s not like you did this much before your boyfriend tried to kill himself.”

Kent slammed on the brakes, sending them both flying forward.

“Watch it!” Sam shouted and glared at him. She shook her wrists as she sat back from where she’d slammed them against the dashboard.

Kent swallowed hard and gripped at the steering wheel. “What did you say?”

“Ugh, fine. _Accidental overdose_ ,” Sam corrected with finger quotes. “Not that there’s that much of a difference.” A car blared its horn from behind them.

“First of all,” Kent argued as he finally started moving again, “There is a Big Fucking Difference.” He pulled to the side of the road to let the vehicle behind them pass and switched the car to park. “Second of all, don’t tell mom or dad I just cursed.”

Sam snorted and shrugged, so Kent took a deep breath and continued. “That wasn’t what I was talking about, though.”

Sam stared at him with a raised eyebrow and mouth twisted in confusion. “You mean the boyfriend part? What? Was I wrong?”

Kent’s jaw dropped. “Yeah!” he said, “Very!”

Sam sized him up and scoffed. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

Kent gnawed at his lower lip and gripped the steering wheel. “Jack and I were teammates and friends,” he explained, “That’s it.”

Kent stared Samantha down, but when she didn’t look like she was going to say anything more, he rolled his eyes and threw the car back in drive.

They made it through two signals before she started up again. “So you just liked him on your own, then?”

The brakes screeched. “Sammy!”

Samantha slammed her hands back on the dashboard. “Oh my God, Kent! Stop slamming the brakes! We’re gonna get in an accident!”

“Then stop saying shit like that.”

Kent glared at her, but Samantha met fire with fire. She ground her jaw until she finally threw herself back into her seat with a wordless shriek. “Fine!” she finally agreed, crossing her arms over her chest in a pout. “You weren’t boyfriends. Can we get to the store?”

Kent sighed and looked back out the front window. “Yeah.”

“Also I’m totally telling mom you cursed that time.”

* * *

 

“Kenny?”

Kent yawned and looked over the back of his seat. “Yeah, Jack?”

Jack looked exhausted, pale and wrung out. Kent had found him with wide, vacant eyes, hands and fingers shaking on the wheel of his car after practice that day. He’d kicked Jack into the back so he could lay down, driven them both to Jack’s billet house and they’d sat in the car in the driveway until the shaking stopped and Kent could hear Jack’s breaths coming regular once again.

“Can you hand me my bag?” Jack asked.

Kent sighed and reached over to the front passenger seat Jack’s bag had been thrown into when Kent had been rearranging everything so Jack could lay down as comfortably as possible. He fished around in one of the smaller pockets until he found the Altoids tin and handed it and a water bottle back over.

Kent heard the tin open, the rattle of paper. He heard the tin close.

A few minutes later, Jack sighed and the last of the tension melted out of his shoulders.

“Hey, Jack?” Kent asked, testing to see if Jack was even in a mood to talk first.

“Yeah?”

Kent sighed, hoping he wouldn’t piss him off, then asked, “Your anxiety thing...does it ever feel like you can’t even see where you’re going anymore?”

When Jack didn’t seem to immediately shut the conversation down, Kent looked to the rearview mirror, not quite comfortable enough to make direct eye contact. Jack was staring back and Kent looked away. “Like all you can do is walk where someone’s pointing,” Kent explained, “and hope there’ll be someone else when you can’t see the first person anymore?”

“That...is completely different from what it feels like,” Jack answered with a deprecating laugh. “I wish someone would point every step for me.”

“Really?” Kent asked.

“Mine’s more like I’m staring at a mountain,” Jack explained, “I have to reach the top but I don’t have a map.”

Kent thought about that, about having a clear end-goal. About knowing where you needed to be. About not stumbling around, following orders, hoping you made it to some sort of defined goal. Draft high? NHL? Win the cup? You still had to keep fighting after, though. For another? The thought made Kent’s head ache. “Trade ya?” he asked.

Jack snorted. “Gladly.”

* * *

 

“Since when are we camping?”

Kent hadn’t been quite sure what was going on when his parents had told him he had 20 minutes to pack for the weekend when he got home from the grocery store with Sam. By the time he’d finished, his dad’s SUV had been loaded up with bags, Kent had been rushed into a seat and they had taken off for the highway.

Heading north could mean any number of things, but as they stopped to fill up the tank before heading up into the mountains, Kent realized there was no other possibility.

“Did you pay, like, any attention to the tent in the back?” Sam asked, “Or the s’mores and hot dogs we stocked up on at the store?”

“I…” Kent started before staring down at his phone. It was at half bars now, but it would drop fast once they started to climb. His hand clenched tight around it. “I can’t just...leave without a word!” he argued.

“Your trainer said a couple days break would be just fine and came up with a lighter regimen to make up for the short-term altitude difference,” his mother replied easily, giving a tap to the bag at her feet, “I have it in my purse.”

“It’s not just that!”

Kent’s dad peeked back through the cracked back window from where he was pumping gas. “Then what?”

“I have to be around. I have to be reachable,” Kent pleaded, “In case Jack needs me.”

The frowns his parents shared did not suggest they felt the same. Sam muttered something under her breath. Kent couldn’t hear it, but the tone suggested it wasn’t anything nice.

“The Zimmermanns are fully aware of our plans,” his mom finally said, “They think it’s a good idea.”

“Kenny,” his dad cut in. The pump shut off and his dad put the nozzle away and grabbed a receipt before hopping back into the driver’s seat and leaning over the center console. “Kenny,” Kent’s dad said again to make sure he had Kent’s attention. He had this way of talking that Kent and Sam had dubbed his Concerned Dad voice, which was lower in volume and pitch but still demanded a person’s complete attention. He was using it now. “Take the chance to put your phone down and step away from things a bit. What you’re doing right now isn’t healthy.”

“I have to, though,” Kent argued with a lot less vehemence and assurance than before even if his frustration remained high.

“You’re moving to Vegas soon and we want to get what time with you we can before then,” the Concerned Dad voice continued, “But right now? It’s like you aren’t even here with us.”

“It’s one weekend,” his mother added. “You can spend that much time with your family.”

Kent gnawed at his bottom lip but chose not to argue any further. He turned on his phone and opened up his messages to send one while he still had service.

_hey jack_

_fam’s dragging me camping_

_no phone service but ill_

_respond asap when home_

* * *

 

Kent’s remembered the draft in flashes and fits.

_hey jack_

_where are you???_

_thought we were sitting_

_by each other_

His mom attacked his cowlick with her fingers and water bottle.

“I don’t know where it came from. I blame the helmet. Neither me nor your father have hair this unruly,” she grumbled while Kent tried to dodge her seeking fingers.

“It has gel on it, mom,” he complained, “Water’s not gonna do anything at this point.”

 

_hey bob_

_i think jack forgot his_

_phone again_

_where are you guys?_

“Hey, Parse! Surprised your other half isn’t here.”

“Shut-up Wooler. He’s around. Can’t miss his big day.”

“Yeah, well, congrats to you guys. Wish me some luck while you’re up on that stage, right?”

“Got it. I hear Atlanta’s got the number 4 pick this year.”

“Fuck you, Parse.”

“Excuse you?”

“Sorry Mrs. Parson.”

_hey alicia_

_bob and jack arent_

_answering_

_draft’s about to start_

_tell jack i’ll see him after_

_1 and 2_

_just like we promised_

“On behalf of our great fans in Nevada, the Las Vegas Aces are proud to select Rimouski Forward, Kent Parson.”

Kent slipped the white and black jersey over his head and shoved a cap over his hair—completely destroying twenty minutes of hard work that morning—then smiled at the camera and the audience. He could feel his mom’s lipstick on his cheek. He could feel the weight of his phone in his pocket. He wondered where Jack was.

_Kenny!_

_Congratulations!_

_You deserve it!_

_As you’ve heard by_

_now, Jack had to pull_

_out of the draft._

_He’s fine now._

_Awake and recovering._

_He’ll be recovering_

_for quite a while, so_

_focus on yourself._

_Good luck in Vegas!_

_Bob._

* * *

 

“So what am I looking at again?”

Kent laughed. “It’s the ring nebula,” he said. His mom sent him a thumbs up.

“I can’t believe I actually remembered how to find it.”

“I can’t believe we still have that thing,” Sam said, from further away, dancing the light of her flashlight off the edge of a cliff. There were a few campfires burning here and there, but, for the most part, the land was pitch black and the sky holding only the faintest traces of twilight.

“It’s a little on the small side, but it’s not like telescopes expire,” Kent replied, kicking up some dirt in her direction, trying to get her to turn the light off so their eyes could fully adjust.

“Clearly,” his mom replied, paying too much attention to the telescope to see the way her two children were making faces at each other. “This is amazing. Can we get closer?”

“We’d need a more powerful telescope,” Kent said, “This one doesn’t have anymore juice.”

“Ew,” Sam said before turning back to swinging her light around the trees below them.

“I remember the first time we came out here to look at the stars,” his mother continued, finally standing up and stretching her back. The telescope was the right height for a six year-old, not a forty-eight year-old. “You went on for hours,” she said with a smile and a shake of her head, “Until you passed out. Talking about all the different stars and constellations.” She pointed up to a zig-zag and looked back at Kent with pride. “I still know Cassiopeia.”

“And that’s Orion’s belt, right?” his dad asked as he pointed up at three stars.

“Orion isn’t even out right now,” Kent pointed out, “It’s not visible in summer at all.”

His dad brought his fingers back and scratched at his nose. “Oh.”

“I mean, at least you’re not asking me where the moon is anymore.” Kent slapped his dad on the back and pushed him over to take a peek through the telescope.

“Well, I didn’t want to ask something you didn’t know,” his dad said before leaning over to take a peek.

“So which one is the star nebula without the telescope?” his mom asked, sneaking up beside him and wrapping her arms around one of his own.

“Nebulas aren’t stars, they’re clouds,” Kent corrected, “And you can’t see the ring nebula without a telescope. It’s too small and far away.” It only took a glance of his mom’s pout for Kent to relent and point to two stars above them. “It’s between those two stars. In the Lyra constellation.”

His mom clapped her hands together. “Is that one of those constellations you can use to navigate? You used to love figuring out directions based on the stars.”

“Then I learned about GPS,” Kent pointed out, “Works even when it’s cloudy.”

His mother hummed in disagreement. “But finding your way by starlight is just so romantic.”

Kent rolled his eyes and slipped his arm out from her grasp. He ran his hand through his hair, pulling his toque off along the way. He reminded himself he wasn’t in Canada anymore. It was a beanie.

“Yeah, but finding better ways to do the same thing is progress,” Kent argued. “People not getting lost is way more important than something being romantic.”

“So if the old way of doing things doesn’t work anymore, it’s better to find a new way?” she asked.

“Exactly,” Kent replied. His mother smiled at him then and Kent paused, thinking back on the conversation before realizing what she was trying to do.

He sent her a bored glare. “People aren’t the same thing as navigating.”

“Okay,” Kent’s dad cut in. “I don’t know what I did, but everything’s black now.”

“OMG, Dad!” Kent could see his sister smack her forehead. He laughed and walked over to see what had happened.

* * *

 

“Yeah, Dad, I’m all settled in.” Kent walked around his bed to throw his last pair of shoes into the closet and shut the door.

“Alright, well, we were concerned since we hadn’t heard from you…”

Kent rolled his eyes at his father’s tinny voice, filled with concern. “It was a long trip and I was so focused on getting my room livable I forgot. Sorry.” It was easier to avoid the fight he’d end up in if he pointed out he was a grown adult and should at least be trusted to do this much without reporting to his parents. They’d been worse since the Draft—since Jack. Kent didn’t know how to address that.

“So they’ve set you up with one of the veterans?” his dad asked.

Kent flopped onto his bed. It was a good thing his parents had sent him to Vegas with sheets. Kent didn’t want to have to go shopping on top of the traveling and unpacking he’d already done today.

“Sorta?” he replied, shrugging even though there was no way for his father to see it. “Scraps is only two years older than me, but his place has a second bedroom, so it worked out.”

“And are you fully unpacked?”

Kent looked at the stack of boxes he had left to go through. “I mean, nah, still got some boxes, but got the most important stuff done.”

He sat up and reached over to grab a plastic bag off his nightstand. “I did, however, find something I definitely did not pack so figured I’d give a call.” He shook the bag enough to let it crinkle loud enough for his dad to hear.

“Oh, did he find them?!”

Kent blinked. “Dad, do you have me on speaker?”

“Of course he has you on speaker,” his mom said. “Now answer my question.”

Kent pulled the phone away to stifle a laugh. He shook the bag once more for her. “I found the stars, Mom.”

“Oh, good. We can send a picture of your ceiling here so you can put them up the right way—”

“Mom. Mom,” Kent interrupted. “I’m an adult male living in Las Vegas with another adult male roommate, where we play professional hockey in the NHL. I’m not putting glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling of my bedroom.”

Kent could hear her disappointment in the staticky silence coming from the other end of the line. He sighed. “I appreciate the thought, though. The ceiling meant so much because we worked on it together.”

“Well, you can make your own decisions,” his mother acquiesced. “They were cheap, so you can just donate them or something.”

Kent frowned and stared down at the green-hued plastic stars. “I don’t wanna.”

“Huh?”

“I won’t put them up,” he said, opening up a dresser drawer and shoving the stars inside, “but they’re a nice reminder.” Kent smiled down at them, stuck between two stacks of shirts that would eventually end up a jumbled, wrinkled mess. They were his own little secret. One he only shared with his family. “Thanks, Mom. I really liked them.”

The silence this time was much softer. And that softness carried over as his father cleared his throat and asked, “So when can we fly out and watch you play a game?”

Kent rubbed at his nose then cleared his throat. “Any time,” he said. “Let me know when you can make it. I’ll get the tickets and a hotel for you—”

“We can afford a hotel,” his mother promised.

“Yeah, but so can I,” he argued. “You guys helped get me this far. Let me treat you.”

“Well, take care of your money. You’ve got a lot of life left to live and hockey won’t last forever,” Kent’s dad reminded him. Kent rolled his eyes. He had a financial advisor for a reason. His parents had even been the one to pick the person for him.

There was a knock at the door and Kent looked over his shoulder to see Scraps frowning at him.

“Hey, Parson, ready to meet the guys?” he asked.

“Yeah. Just a sec.” Kent nodded at Scraps before turning back to his phone call. “Mom, Dad? I gotta go. Talk to you soon, okay?”

After his parents said their goodbyes, Kent ended the call. His fingers automatically opened up his texts and tapped on the third conversation down. Kent could scroll up for three months of a one-sided conversation. He tapped into the text box, but his fingers hovered over the keyboard. It would be so easy to tap out a quick text. One more _hey_ . One more _how are you_ . One more _i miss you_. Kent sent the stars one last glance. He turned off his phone, shut the drawer and grabbed his hat.

“Parents?” Scraps asked Kent when he met him at the front door.

“If I hadn’t called them, they might have just flown out here to make sure I’d arrived safe,” Kent laughed. He nodded his head out the door. “Let’s go. I’ve got a new team to meet.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Julie and Kylie, our two awesome admins, for hosting this event once again. And thank you to my beloved beta reader, who I probably put through the ringer several times over with as close as I cut it to the deadline. This story would be nowhere without you <3.


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